The people in the roofless cabin had slept soundly, after the visit of the wild thing known as the Mountain Devil. Millicent came out, blooming like a mountain rose, and drew from the old trapper a compliment on her personal appearance, which brought new roses to her cheeks. To the surprise of every one, Bentley also appeared. “You git back to yer nest!” shouted Ben. “Don’t you s’pose I ain’t got no better business than to be a nuss to you? You’ll get a relapse ef you don’t take keer.” “No fear of that, old man,” said Bentley, addressing the trapper in the free and easy style peculiar to the plains. “Don’t be troubled. I never felt better in my life. That blood-letting, together with the venison you cook, has done me a world of good. I shall punish your provisions tremendously.” “Waal, as ter that, ye’ve got a rifle of yer own. I reckin ye kin keep yerself in grub. How does ye shoot?” “Pretty well,” said Bentley. “Nothing to brag of, you know, but enough to swear by.” “Thet thing tried Jule another hack last night. Ye orter see his face. It looks ez ef a hoss an’ wagin had drew right over it.” “It is a malicious thing.” “You bet. It clawed Jule up spiteful, and don’t make no more of a rifle-ball then you or I would of a flea-bite. Must be powerful tough.” “Powervul!” cried Jan. “Ach, goot cracious! I sees him mineself, unt he vash so pig ash a mountain. I vash scart mit him.” “You had good reason to be,” said the young man. “Now, boys, let us get to work. You must teach us what to do, Ben.” “All right,” ejaculated Ben. “I’m the boss, then. I’ll give you work enough.” The first thing was to finish their cabin and set some traps. Ben taught Jan and Bentley how to commence, and was pleased to find them apt at the business. Jan did not lack for intelligence and his wits were sharpening by contact with the keen trapper and the volatile Frenchman. The latter needed very little instruction, for he had received his education in the cold region of British America, under the fostering care of the Hudson Bay Company, then in its glory, but suffering from the enterprise of the North-west Company, which had sprung up about this time under the lead of the enterprising German, Jacob Astor. But, Ben Miffin could never submit to be a hanger-on to any company, and his trapping was done on his own hook. The ground he had chosen for his labors was new. As has been said, no other white man’s foot had trod it before. When the hut was completed they built a _cache_ to hold their furs and food. This was necessary. The wolves were numerous and ravenous, and would strip any trap of its contents in a moment. This last labor completed, they started out on a hunt, leaving Bentley in charge of the camp, and of Millicent. An hour’s ride brought them to the level prairie, dotted here and there by low clumps of trees. Ben paused, and his quick eye swept the vast plain from side to side. At last his eye brightened and he stretched out his right hand to the east.